


Simmering

by sunaddicted



Series: Gordlock Week 2k18 [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Caring, First Kiss, Fluff, Gordlock Week 2k18, Heat Stroke, I love the heat so this might be inaccurate, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Misuse of Ice Lollies, Short & Sweet, Sick Character, Sickfic, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 18:57:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15297894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunaddicted/pseuds/sunaddicted
Summary: "I've been drinking a lot""Me too"Jim snorted "Alcohol makes things worse""Lies"





	Simmering

**Author's Note:**

> Gordlock Week, first prompt: Hottest Day in Gotham

_Simmering_

Gotham was a typically cold city, in which it rained most of the year and the blue sky rarely was to be admired - let alone the sun that, whenever it came out from the thick wall of clouds that blanketed the city, always was a sickly pale yellow that didn't warm up your bones.

It snowed fairly often too and, while it might have been a nice spectacle at the outskirts of the city where the rich lived in their manors, in town it quickly turned into a mush grey with smog that only made accidents more likely to happen when it froze over because of the rain that inevitably would fall.

Gotham had long and hard winters, a way too rainy fall, a non-existent spring and what usually amounted to the grand total of thirty days of summer, give or take.

And it wasn't a particularly nice summer either: it usually was so humid that saying one was breathing water instead of air wouldn't have been fully inaccurate; the temperatures raised around midday but rarely they skidded so up on the thermometer that one wouldn't feel the need to bring a light jacket with them; it was sweaty, too short and it made the city stink - especially in neighbourhoods like the Narrows.

The regular citizens, born and bred Gothamites, definitely weren't equipped to endure any temperature above 20°C - and that already made many people feel like they were dying, forcing them to whip out dusty electric fans in order to survive the "heat".

With 40°C under the scalding and bright sun, it was the hottest day in Gotham in what the news claimed to be decades.

 _Decades_.

Jim unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, his tie having been long discarded: he might have gotten used to the heat while he was in the army, but it had been a long time ago and his body had immediately re-adjusted to Gotham's particular climate; he hadn't particularly missed the sun, nor the warmth and he certainly hadn't missed the way his skin refused to tan and constantly burnt whenever he forgot to put sunscreen on - even in the middle of a shooting, Jim smelled like a bloody beach.

No wonder that he had been dubbed Baywatch.

"I'm dying" Harvey moaned, forehead pressed to a still packaged ice lolly that he was using to cool down, apparently uncaring of the syrupy liquid that was seeping and leaking all over his desk - he could have gotten a beer, but then he wouldn't have wasted it to cool down and he would have just drunk it "I swear on my mother's grave that I'm dying"

In an other circumstance, Jim might have teased the other man but the situation was serious and he wasn't going to crack a joke "You should hit the showers and tie your hair back: your head must be burning" Harvey's hairs was... well, Jim had a thing for Harvey's hair: thick, luscious, the perfect mix between silver a faded red - but it surely was making Harvey uncomfortable in that heat.

The same probably was true for his beard too but there wasn't much that Harvey could do about it and Jim would sooner cut his tongue than suggest that Harvey shorten it.

"Can't"

"It will make you feel better" Jim said, trying to lure the other man into making use of the GCPD facilities: they were nothing to boast of and the water never ran hotter than tepid, which it usually meant that they used it only when they were desperate - i.e. they had so much blood on their clothes that it would only cause agitation if they went out and about covered in it - but that for once would be a blessing, rather faulty piping to rage against.

Harvey shook his head, the ice lolly squelchin at the movement that ground it harder against the table "I physically can't get up and move"

Jim had to admit that it was concerning but he forced himself to leash and collar his worry for a minute, so that he could assess what to do and make an informed decision "Do you think you're getting a heat stroke?"

"What are the symptoms?"

He didn't blame Harvey for not knowing them, really: the closest thing to a heat stroke one could get in Gotham, it was standing too close to Firefly and her flamethrower when she was particularly trigger happy "Pounding headache, red skin, high body temperature, nausea, dizziness, muscle weakness..." Jim listed as he let his eyes rove over Harvey and saw how dry and red his usually pale skin was "We need to cool you down, come on"

"Told you, I can't move" Harvey said slowly, grimacing as he felt his tongue stick to the dry roof of his mouth.

"Then I'll call an ambulance"

Well, Harvey couldn't let Jim do that: their colleagues already teased him enough about how out of shape and lazy he was, what would they say if a little sunshine put him in a hospital bed? People in warmer countries managed perfectly well to endure the heat all the time - hell, so did people in the rest of the United States "No ambulance"

"Then you have to stand up for me"

Harvey had done a lot of things for Jim: he had covered his sorry arse whenever he was planning on getting in trouble; he had stood up against the whole precinct to defend him; he had struck a deal with the devil himself to get him out of Blackgate; he had ran after psychopaths of all sorts during lunch time - Jim had never had to beg him for anything but Harvey really thought this was the time he would disappoint the other man, because his legs felt like they were made of jelly and face planting on the floor in the middle of the bullpen definitely wasn't an option.

No, he would rather die on his desk.

"Let me help you" Jim said before he slid an arm around Harvey's waist and gently sat him upright; he kept his hands firmly closed around the other man's shoulders, trying to steady him while Harvey just breathed. The skin under the thin fabric of the other's creased shirt was burning up and Jim felt guilt size his throat: he should have spokem up earlier, before Harvey got so sick "Are you going to be sick?"

"It's possible" Harvey croaked.

"Take your time" Jim reassured, looking around him to check whether anyone had noticed them - everyone seemed too absorbed by their own discomfort, though, and Jim wasn't surprised to see plenty of people with their hair wet and ice cold bottles pressed to their foreheads.

Luckily enough, the big players of Gotham's underworld seemed to be just as tried and bothered by the heat as anyone else.

"Make me laugh too" Harvey demanded after a small chuckle had left Jim's throat: it was so rare, to hear such a noise come from the other man - while they were at the GCPD, at least.

"I was thinking about how Oswald must he handling this heat"

The thought indeed was entertaining "I wouldn't put it past Penguin to hire Fries and have one of his precious offices turned in some arctic paradise" Harvey nudged Jim with a shoulder "I guess that you don't have any favours to call in, do you?"

"Sorry" Jim shrugged "I'm the one perpetually in debt"

"Yeah, no harm in trying though" Harvey could have hugged Fries if the man broke down the front door in that moment. He took a fortifying breath and put his hands on the desk, pushing himself up to stand even as he gritted his teeth through a wave of nausea and had to heavily lean against Jim's side "Either we hurry or I'm going to fall down on my arse in the next two minutes" he warned.

Jim nodded firmly: he wouldn't let Harvey down. As steadily as possible, he led his best friend across the precinct and into the changing rooms, elbowing open the door of the showers "You've got a change of clothes, right?" He inquired as he quickly emptied Harvey's pockets and took his gun for safekeeping.

"Probably" maybe nothing really clean but he was fairly sure he at least had a shirt and a pair of trousers: thanks to Jim, Harvey had trekked into the sewers often enough that he had learnt his lesson and had started to keep a crumpled change in his locker - the problem was, he didn't always remember to bring to work a new one "Why?" He asked as he blinked down at the other man helping him out of his shoes.

Instead of wasting any time explaining Harvey his plan, Jim turned the faucet on and he pushed his friend under the cold stream of water "It would have taken too much time to get you undressed" he offered in an apologetic manner.

Not that Harvey really cared: the water didn't feel as blissful as he had imagined it would and he stumbled and slid down the wall as the shocking change in temperature did him in. Harvey didn't even have the breath to wonder about whether Jim was trying to kill him or punish him for something and he just tried to breathe and keep himself from throwing up in his lap.

Jim quickly stripped himself down to his boxer briefs and entered the stall, shivering at the cold water falling on his back as he crouched down and started ridding Harvey of his clothes - it wasn't exactly how he had imagined to get the other man naked and Jim tried to banish the thought before it took a hold of his mind: Harvey needed his help, not to be perved on while he was on the brink of passing out "You need to cool your body's temperature down. I know it's unpleasant but you'll feel better, I promise" and after that, Jim would get as much fluid as possible into Harvey and take him home.

The violent shivering subsided slowly - it took around a quarter of an hour, at least according to the old clock on the wall that Jim wasn't sure it still took the time properly - and Harvey tried to focus on the way Jim's palms ran along his shoulders or how he slicked his sopping hair out of his forehead "Why aren't you suffering like me?" He complained, feeling a little more coherent and less irritable.

"I've been drinking a lot"

"Me too"

Jim snorted "Alcohol makes things worse"

"Lies"

"Alcohol depresses your hypothalamus, which regulates your body temperature" Jim relayed the fact "And it acts as a diuretic, making you lose fluids when you already are losing enough through sweating"

Harvey rolled his eyes "Did the Boy Scouts give you a badge for learning that?"

"I actually learnt about it in the army" Jim shrugged, ridiculously relieved about the fact that Harvey was feeling better - enough to tease him, at least. He cupped one hand and poured more water on Harvey's hair, making sure it reached his warm scalp: the other man still felt way too warm but his skin had lost some of its redness.

"Damn, I should have guessed"

Jim smiled as Harvey leaned against his shoulder and he tenderly swiped his damp thumb across his lower lip, dry and chapped.

"Trying to seduce me, Jimbo?" Harvey teased, trying to resist the instinct of sucking the digit in his mouth and twirling his tongue around it, collecting the droplets of cool water clinging to the skin and... hell, had he really blurted _that_ out? After years of keeping his affection a secret, had he really outed himself like that?

"If you weren't half-dying? Yeah" Jim admitted, flushing despite the cold stream raining down on them.

"What?"

There, he had ruined everything - just like he always did. Jim took a deep breath "I said that I would be trying to seduce you, if you weren't sick" he repeated, shying away from Harvey's gaze: he didn't think he would be able to endure it, if he saw rejection and revulsion on the other man's face - not that he would blame him, he hadn't exactly made Harvey's life easy.

When he felt Harvey shift against his side, Jim loosened his grip around the man as his stomach twisted in knots at the idea that his best friend - the man he loved - was trying to put space in between them.

And then he felt Harvey's lips on his own, the faint prickling of his beard against his skin and the only thing Jim could do was kiss the other man back, trying to keep himself from climbing in his lap.

"So.. you gonna take me home and play nurse for me, Jimbo?" Harvey grinned: maybe Gotham should have more hot days in a year, if those were the results it brought.  

**Author's Note:**

> Even if I love this pairing, I've never written for it - constructive criticism is welcomed ♡


End file.
